The Grayson Debacle
by leakylee
Summary: All of Robin's personal memories are put into Starfire's head, and told that they are her own. Waking up believing her parents were killed in a tragic circus accident when she was 8, and having no knowledge of her previous life she finally by chance finds her way.
1. Chapter 1

The smell of aspen trees, and the promise of snow filled the air. Twilight kissed the sky with its last breaths as the stars began to emerge, twinkling dully, scattered across the Gotham skyline. The wind blew, encasing the bystanders in crisp, frosted air, the pain riddled faces pulsed red from the biting cold.

"I would like to thank everyone who could make it here today, I realize that for people such as ourselves leaving our responsibilities behind at short notice is not a luxury we typically are enabled to indulge in."

Graceful glittering snow fell softly to the Earth, Robin, clad in dress clothes stood in front of his comrades, people he had stood next to in life or death situations, bled for, became an advocate for, but his family none the less. He looked out at the people standing before him, Titans, League members... Alfred.

"As everyone is well aware, last week we lost what I would like to believe was one of the most beautiful souls that had ever walked across this planet. She was selfless, brave and above all else, a Titan."

Raven offered a bleak upturn of her mouth, possibly meant to form a smile, but it was lost to the heavy sadness of grief she could feel pulsating around her. Beast boy stood next to her, his black jacket and beanie covered in large flakes of snow, tears caught in the red rimmed, inflamed dark under circles of his eyes. Unlike the other three remaining founding members, he didn't attempt to portray the façade of not feeling the overwhelming sensation of gut wrenching pain the deep gash of Starfire's death had so brutally left in open. He sucked back the obstructions from his nasal passages, shuddering and furiously wiping at the series of tear trails that had formed deltas on to his cheeks. Cyborg's head hung low as he passed a small package of tissues over to his left, not willing to watch Robin give his eulogy for fear of watching the emotions pass over his friend's face throughout his heartfelt message. Afraid the raw emotions would release the crushing pain in his windpipe, and inevitably giving in to the same hysterics Beast Boy was suffering from.

"I didn't tell her nearly enough how much she meant to me, that she was my best friend... I wish I had more opportunities to take her to the "mall of shopping", and to sit on the couch and watch movies with her... and to put heaping gobs of mustard over every food known to man kind..." a slight chuckle arose from the crowd, who were surely recalling the Alien girl's unhealthy obsession with the yellow condiment.

Robin rubbed his gloved hands over his face in exasperation, a strangled heave escaped his chest and echoed across the silence.

"I wish I would have finally grown some fucking balls and put this stupid ring I've carried around for a year and a half on her finger, bought a house four blocks away from a goddamned Starbucks and never looked back, " he knelt to the ground, and with a shaky hand placed the small black velvet box on the ledge of the tombstone, whispered a silent apology, and stood back up gently removing his mask.

"I wish to resign from my duties." He let the remaining grip he held on his mask go as he slowly made his way out from being front and center of the group, walked through a wall of surrounding aspen trees and wasted no time starting and climbing on his motorcycle and shifting it into gear.

"I better follow him home." Bruce's voice broke the silence as he clasped Clark on the shoulder and gave him a slight nod. Clark returned the gesture, and approached the other Titans.

"Any of you that need someone to talk to, or just want to get away for a while, come up to the watch tower. We can always use the company up there. We are extremely honored to been made apart of this today, we understand the pain losing a teammate brings, Robin was an incredible leader. Give him some time and I'm sure he will be ready to tag along on missions again." He pulled an unsuspecting Cyborg, Beast Boy and Raven in for a hug as Diana, Ollie, Wally, John and Shayera walked around to each Titan, shaking hands, filling the air with words of encouragement, and even shared a few laughs lightening the atmosphere.

"You think he will be alright?" Beast Boy leaned close to Raven as he softly spoke.

"Eventually, yes. But it will take time. He has experienced a lot of loss throughout his life. He's going to take it harder than most of us." She turned to look at him, her face still sullen.

"I can't believe she's really gone." Cyborg placed a metallic hand on top of the gravestone. Everyone had started to leave, the wind had picked up considerably, and the chill in the air was unbearable.

Beast Boy knelt to read the inscription.

"Even a small star shines in the darkness."


	2. Chapter 2

"You broke her jaw in two places." A slender blonde man leaned against the door frame, an accusatory look crossed his face. The dimly lit locker room emitted an interesting aroma of a musty gym sock smell, the walls were caked with dust and grime. He looked desperately out-of-place, like a delicately crafted pastry at a truck stop in his khaki colored slacks, pressed baby blue button up, and a man cardigan.

"It's not like it was anything personal, you sign up for a sparring class you're going to walk out with a black eye every so often." She spoke as she tied up her shoe laces, then erecting herself, grabbed a worn out gym bag and headed towards the door. Her lean frame glided past him, her jet black hair was pulled into a two walked in unison down the hall, making their way out to the parking lot.

"You'd think after being in a horrific car accident the last thing you would want to subject yourself to is more head trauma."

"I didn't have any _head trauma_, this helps me exert my aggression _Adrian..." _The retort was practically spat from her mouth. Adrian held his palms up in exaggerated submission.

"For someone who just exerted themself, your sass levels are still ridiculously high."

"Get your ass in the car."

_Adrian had been there when she woke up in a hospital bed, her head practically mummified in bandages. Her corneas had chemical burns from the airbags deploying. They had been able to salvage her vision by some miracle, but she awoke to darkness. She hadn't initially known who he was , but was informed they had been quite close just before the accident had happened, and with Adrian being aware of the fact that she did not have any family to wait by her side for her to wake up from the medically induced coma, he came to the hospital several days in a row to insure she had someone there when she finally came to. _

_She had not been the typical Hollywood coma case, where the patient would wake up in a strange room with an arm missing, and no recollection of the past. She knew enough, 23 years old, lives in Gotham city, and grew up being bounced around from foster home to foster home due to psychological difficulties that were a direct result of witnessing her parents fall to their deaths after a trapeze rope had snapped when she was 8. She also was able to recall that the rope snapping was not any form of accidental occurrence. It had been a calculated move by a mob lackey, who offered Mr. Hailey (the circus owner) protection. When the offer was declined, it was taken out on her parents, "The flying Grayson's"._

_The issue at hand now was to deal with the emotional trauma of peeling back the scabbed over wounds that time had long been nursing. The years of therapy that was ordered at the hand of the foster families she was taken into was wiped from every corner of her mind, along with many names, faces and minor events that had taken place throughout her life. This was thought to be a sort of defense mechanism that her mind had taken upon itself, darkening several of the details of her past to ease her even if only slightly. The body reacts strongly to trauma, which Reese Grayson had unfortunately been finding out first hand._

"When will you be starting up your forensic classes back up?" Adrian questioned as he focused on his pot full of water, waiting impatiently for it to begin boiling.

"Whenever I can afford it, all I can do now is pay my part of the rent and save whatever else I make cocktail witnessing to start-up my classes all over again..." Her exasperation with the unfortunate reality of having to retake her courses took back seat to her amusement of watching her roommate fiddle with the stove dials.

"This bitch ain't even on." He narrowed his brown eyes at the oven, and spun the dial around about three times before giving up and tossing out the water in the pot. Reese walked around the counter, and leaned in to inspect the oven herself to see if she could be of any help.

"Chinese?" She suggested with a half-smile and an eye brow raise.

"I'm down, I'd love to shove about a pound of kung paoohhh HOLY MOTHER OF GOD MOVE YOUR HAND!"

The burner glowed an angry shade of bright red as Reese's hand was planted firmly in the center. Shock set in as she yelped slightly, rushing over to the sink to run cold water over the burn, only to quickly realize that she felt no sensations of pain.

"I dont- It doesn't...", she slowly flexed her hand wide and clenched her fist several times. She looked up at Adrian, an almost comical expression loomed over his face.

"Nerve...Damage...?", the two words came out in a curious, questioning way. They shared a look of hard contemplation for a moment before shrugging their shoulders at one another. Adrian reached for the "Tasty Asian House" menu in the junk drawer. "They won't deliver if the bat signal has been lit, the order must be placed as a carry out."

"Ah the perks of living in a sketchy neighborhood... I'll start heading over there once you place the order." Regularly a man would have wiser to send, but Adrian was useless, no more intimidating than a 12-year-old girl. She heard him begin ordering after she finished lacing her shoe, she grabbed her coat and shut the door behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

"Where would you like to have lunch today Master Bruce? It is about time to do some catching up on public appearances." Alfred focused his gaze up to the rear view mirror closing in on Bruce's eyes as he watched him navigate emails on his laptop.

"Fox Gardens is fine Alfred."

"Very well sir."

Fox Gardens was often chosen due to its closeness in proximity with Wayne Enterprises, and the particular status of the people who ate there. It was conveniently located so that business would not be put off for long, as well as a sure-fire way to reassure the public that Bruce Wayne was still just as wealthy and more playboy-like than ever.

A few blocks later the engine's dull roar was sharply silenced, Alfred climbed out of the driver's seat and swiftly made his way over to the rear passenger door. Bruce finished stuffing the laptop into his brief case as he stood from the car, the sun beamed down as he curtly nodded and smiled at his friend.

"I'll give you a call when I finish."

"Enjoy, sir."

...

The restaurant had a relaxing ambiance, light shone brightly through the ceiling high windows, but much to the Billionaire's distaste... several hundred utensils surrounded his plate. As he inspected each fork, knife and spoon, he skillfully listed what each one's purpose was in his head, rekindling the debutant discussions his mother had reminisced about when he was young.

"They aren't too keen on 'less is more here'." Bruce looked up, a leggy, dark-haired 20 something stood with her hands inside her apron, the usual Fox Gardens uniform clung to her small figure. He stared in deep thought, he knew her. He just couldn't figure out where from.

"I do enjoy knowing that if I drop my fork on the floor I won't have to wait for another," He smirked. Turning up the charm, attempting to get some sort of epiphany to appear by sending a subliminal invitation to chat. He leaned back and lazily stretched his arm over the chair beside him. "I haven't seen you here before. I'm Bruce..."

"Wayne." She finished, unfazed. "I usually work the cocktail hour in the evenings, they were short a server for lunch today. But I highly doubt I'll be asked to work this shift again, I have successfully mortified the restaurant owners into thinking that I have no high society manners, whatsoever." Her blue eyes gleamed with defiance. "I'm Reese."

Two glasses of white wine, and a plate of Risotto later, the check was placed on the linen clothed table. For the past hour and a half (Mostly due to the sudden decline in customers) Reese had regaled Bruce with tales of drunk celebrities that had come through, one of which had particularly sparked his interest. Apparently, this had been a regular pit stop for Lex Luthor on his visits to Gotham, and on occasions he would have one too many 'dirty Harry's' and would use the Grand Piano to play and sing a very drunk rendition of 'Tiny Dancer'.

Reaching into his wallet he pulled out some cash, along with a business card. "For when Luthor stops by."

A gust of wind blew the card off the table onto the floor as the door opened. Reese knelt with the rest of the plates she had cleared away still in her hands, carefully she reached for the fly away card.

"I can certainly do that." She laughed, as she stared up at Bruce's outstretched hand.

Suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck stood as if he had been plunged into freezing water. Just barely visible, at the angle he was looking from at the whites of her eyes, he could see the faintest shade of emerald-green pierce through.

Hesitating slightly, he stood. "You know, I have been endlessly searching for an assistant to attend to more personal affairs of mine, I haven't found anyone yet that I felt would mesh well... If your interested you can start tomorrow." He lightly forced a smile trying to push the shock away that was still resonating throughout his entire body.

"You're... serious?" Reese had turned and set the plates down once again, and leaned on the table.

"Very. Meet me in my office tomorrow morning around ten if this is something that interests you, the address is on the card I gave you. Ask the receptionist to escort you." He smiled and started to make his way towards the exit.

"I'll be there." She softly called after him, clutching the small paper in her pocket. Bruce looked back waving over his shoulder as he briskly walked out the door to the town car.

...

"You have reached the voicemail box of 'Richard', please leave a message after the tone."

"I need you at my office tomorrow at nine, I can arrange for Alfred to swing by with the car. Give me a call and let me know that you have received this ASAP." Bruce ended the brief phone call, and sunk back into the seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why he even owns a cell phone is beyond me."

"Do you believe he will call back sir?" Alfred arched an inquisitive eye brow as he pulled into the Wayne Enterprises parking garage.

"No." Bruce shifted irritably in his seat. "But I'm hoping that message will spark his interest enough to get his attention, I know by this time tomorrow I'll be dragging him out of some dark alley in Bludhaven."

"I'm sure if you told him the issue at hand, Master Richard would be half way here by now."

Bruce smirked. "I realize that, but if I ever need to beckon him again..."

"He will come running, very clever as usual Sir. And if I am no longer needed here, I am off to pick Master Tim up from school."

"Let me know if he calls." Alfred gave a nod as he clasped his seat belt, and shifted the town car into reverse.

...

**I forgot to do this in the first chapter, better late than never I suppose... Unless of course I get sued or something...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans, Batman, or anything DC Comics Affiliated. Yup, sucks to be me. **

**And.**

**If anyone is out there reading this...**

**I would love a review. Just one maybe? No? Ok. :(**


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